


untouchable

by orphan_account



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, drabble-ish, it's a collection of drabbles really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-09 09:45:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3245063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Judal is a darkness the sun can’t reach, and Sinbad thinks sadly that he might be too far gone to ever bask in that sunlight again."</p><p>Snapshots of the progression of Sinbad and Judal's relationship and the magi's descent into depravity</p>
            </blockquote>





	untouchable

**Author's Note:**

> I have a /lot/ of ideas about the formation of their 'relationship' of sorts so I thought I'd throw a few together 
> 
> Again, these idiots make me sad

  

The first time they meet he's a sliver of a boy, wide eyed and tiny and drowning in his own robes, small hand outstretched in an almost shy demand- “Do you wanna be my king’s candidate?”

He's small, but carries a powerful air; an innocent beacon of _light_ over-shadowed by a crowd of ill intentions, and the single hooded figure he turns to with such trust is enough to confirm it. He feels his eyes harden, sees the disappointment in the child’s own, but this boy is untouchable and he doesn't have the strength to attempt to.

 

* * *

 

His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes and he’s smiling about the wrong thing; he talks of spells and wishes and traveling the world and his face darkens at the mentions of his ' _allies'_ ; he’s nothing but a child and his future has already been stolen.

 

* * *

  

He’s thinner than Sinbad remembers, taller; his eyes are tired, hopeful, angry when his offer is refused yet again, leaving them looking so hopelessly defeated. In that brief meeting Judal’s eyes tell a story, and it leaves Sinbad feeling incredibly sad.

 

* * *

 

Houses are burning and people are screaming and Judal is _laughing_ and in that moment Sinbad has never hated anybody more.

 

* * *

 

He wonders vaguely if Judal might be the death of him someday, and feels like he should resent the idea. He wonders if maybe he’ll be the death of Judal too- it seems almost fitting- and doesn’t really know how to feel about that either.

 

* * *

 

He doesn’t know how or when hatred turns to neutrality, and he doesn’t know how or when that happens to his feelings towards Judal. The magi ignites an anger inside him that no one has before, and yet no matter what he does- all the lives he’s taken, everything he’s destroyed- he can’t quite _hate_ him and can’t quite bring himself to kill him, even if that’s his best option.

 

* * *

  

Judal is crazy.

 

Mad, insane, and every synonym along with it. He is unpredictable and dangerous; condescending and _rude._ He is childish and arrogant, immature and oh so enticing. He is a mystery, a riddle no one can quite solve. Judal is a multitude of things, a combination of traits and skills that create such a _twisted_ , _unexplainable_ person, and Sin can't help but be drawn to all of it.

 

Maybe it's interest, curiosity; maybe it's pity; maybe it's desire of control, of having power over someone so _powerful,_ finding another asset for his country. That must be it, he reasons, it's for the sake of his country that he lets the magi into his room at night, that he mumbles kind phrases into his ear, that he tries to force some of that darkness out of him; it's all for the sake of his country, and it's best not to get attached.

 

* * *

  

“Do you hate me?”

It’s a quiet question on a quiet night, uttered in a serious tone that he’s never heard from the magi before; it catches him off-guard and he almost spills his ink as his furious scribbling comes to a stop. A few moments of surprised silence, before something like a laugh- forced and unconvincing- escapes Judal’s mouth and he smiles, almost bitterly.

“Right,” Is all he says, eyes focused on the dancing shadows of candlelight; the silence settles, heavy and deafening, and Sinbad can’t bring himself to answer.

 

* * *

 

He comes when he wants to get away, when he wants to _feel_ or to feel nothing at all. It’s during these times- when the magi is flushed and gasping, _writhing_ and gripping the king like a lifeline (which maybe he is, in a way)- that he looks so _fragile,_ like one wrong word or move could _shatter_ him. And it’s during these times that Sinbad wants nothing more than to _comfort_ him (and he tries to- whispers sweet nothings and words of praise that he hopes don’t fall on deaf ears), to wrap him up and get him away from those monsters.

 

But he can’t, and he won’t, and so is his duty as king.

 

* * *

 

By the time he sees him it's too late.

It's a simple conversation, a reassurance to his generals that he hadn't completely lost it. It's a minute or two of peeking through the crack of the open doorway. It's a phrase he's uttered millions of times in his mind to drown out the guilt and forming emotions that ruin everything. There's a shuffle of feet and a look of betrayal and before he can say anything the other is gone.

 _"You're playing a dangerous game"_ \- he rushes out after him.

 _"I know; but he's a valuable asset-"_ he almost trips over his own feet as he turns a corner.

 _"Better to have him docile towards us-"_ he stumbles over the threshold of his room.

 _"This is all for the benefit of our country-_ _"_ He sees a flash of familiar hair and the magi is flying out of his window; there's a crash and he cringes and maybe that was a lookout tower.

_"Nothing more,"_

He is left alone with his regret and he knows he has broken something precious.

 

* * *

  

He’s gone for a long time- days turn into weeks, weeks turn into a month, two, three- and Sinbad thinks he may die of guilt. His generals begin to worry; he’s sure Jafar knows- he always knows. So he avoids thinking, avoids his window, and saves his worries for his dreams.

 

* * *

  

He wakes up one chilly spring night to find the magi curled up against him and has never been happier to see him.

 

* * *

 

Sinbad wonders if Judal dislikes his life, wonders if he wishes for anything more- other than his desire for the king’s partnership, he really knows nothing about what other _wants_ ; he’s afraid of what he might find if he asks.

 

* * *

 

He begs sometimes; grabbing, pulling at the choker around his neck, the bands encasing his arms, yelling, _pleading_ for him to take them off- _please_ take them off; they're a symbol of _ownership_ and the king hates them almost as much as Judal does. But he can’t answer (for fear of the magi’s rage or his own, he can’t tell anymore). And after a few more moments struggle the magi gives up, collapsing against him in frustration, breath heavy and erratic and it’s all Sin can do to not throw caution to the wind and break the damn things off himself.

 

* * *

 

There’s something missing. There’s something missing in the smiles he had given as a child, in the malice-filled grins he wears now. There’s something missing in his childish promises- “We’d be _unstoppable;_ the world would be _ours,_ ”- something missing in the please and whimpers that fall from his mouth like breath when he’s spread out underneath him.

His laughs are hollow and desperate as he throws the king’s pity back in his face. That something has turned into everything; there’s nothing in his eyes anymore and maybe there was never anything to begin with.

Sinbad wonders if Judal means what he says, and wonders if maybe he could’ve filled that hole.

 

* * *

 

Nothing surprises him more about Judal’s sudden appearance than the complete and utter _disregard._ Sinbad is brushed aside, not a single glance or greeting spared in his direction; ignored by the one most wanting of his attention and surely the world is ending. The empress of Kou is dead, the country is in turmoil, Judal has risen with more power than ever, taking the weak, hateful prince with him, and surely- _surely-_ the world is ending.

 

* * *

  

Judal is a darkness the sun can’t reach, and Sinbad thinks sadly that he might be too far gone to ever bask in that sunlight again.

 

 

 

 


End file.
